


blood (on blood on blood)

by alpha-lobito (DeathByRoxas)



Category: Hunter X Hunter
Genre: Discussed Body Mutilation, F/M, Gambling, Hunter X Hunter Big Bang, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Implied/Referenced Prostitution, M/M, Mutual Pining, On-Again/Off-Again Relationship, Smoking, Undercover Missions, hxhbb, hxhbigbang2020
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-02
Updated: 2020-07-27
Packaged: 2021-03-05 04:34:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,103
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25038586
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DeathByRoxas/pseuds/alpha-lobito
Summary: Leorio knows he’s serious. This is his clan’s eyes they’re going after. This wasn’t some outfit to blend into the crowded streets of a dense city to capture the Phantom Troupe leader, this was an undercover operation into the secret gambling table of a super secret underground Gala event.So Kurapika’s disguise shouldn’t surprise him. It manages to stop his breathing all the same.His girlfriend won’t stop blowing up his phone though.Or on a mission to get a pair of rarely seen Scarlet Eyes, Kurapika and Leorio realize a bit more about themselves and each other.
Relationships: Kurapika/Leorio Paladiknight, Leorio Paladiknight/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 22
Kudos: 224
Collections: Hxhbb





	1. Arrival

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first time contributing to a Big Bang of any sort. I've always been a bit too worried about putting myself out there in terms of my writing, but I hope you all enjoy this fic and the wonderful art by Morfiumd! This is the first piece out of 3 so give them some love!! 
> 
> https://morfiumd.tumblr.com/post/622456484388814848/13-my-piece-for-hxhbigbang2020-first-out

The rain this evening seems endless and Leorio doesn’t like it very much. The sound though is soothing. Pitter patters on the car windows and roof beat a rhythm on the glass his heart and lungs have no choice but to follow. He’s been waiting for 20 minutes now, his driver parked on the curb of a fancy hotel Leorio knows better to even glance at. 

His phone buzzes. Looking down, he swipes away the notification as soon as he sees the name. He doesn’t need this right now.

When Kurapika had called him ( _called_ him) if he could help him get a pair of eyes, Leorio jumped on that chance like a starved dog on fresh meat. Kurapika doesn’t normally ask for help, much less talk to him or the kids much these days, but he said yes before Kurapika could even explain what he needed to do. _Yes. Yes I’ll help you. Just tell me when and where. I’ll do it._

He can still recall the surprised stutter over the static-tainted phone line, his long sigh, his soft _Thank you, Leorio. I really appreciate this._ Before hanging up. Since then Kurapika has made an effort at small talk between mission instructions: _How are your classes going? And that girl you were dating?_ Honest concern for his emotional wellbeing: _Breaking up is hard but I’m sure it’s for the best. You both will move on from it. Make sure to eat and shower._ And how could he forget his nagging: _You won’t get in trouble for this will you? You shouldn’t abuse your Hunter’s License just to skip class, Leorio._ And so on and so forth.

His phone vibrates again. Leorio expects a message from Kurapika, being this late, but it’s the same name as before. He doesn’t bother reading the message and swipes it away from his screen.

He felt like a spy, sitting in his private medical school dorm room, receiving unmarked packages with nothing more than a simple handwritten card inside and the object of delivery.

_This is your suit. Keep it clean._

Leorio thinks back to opening the box like he was Pandora herself. A striking black silk and suede suit blazer with matching pants and shined black leather shoes. Underneath was a plush black turtleneck, a silver watch with a black sapphire face, silver cufflinks, and a black pocket square. It even had the softest black socks that’s ever graced his feet. The tag still clung to one of the inner buttons and Leorio nearly fainted at the number. He has never _looked_ at anything so expensive in his life.

And he reviewed overpriced medical bills for his research project.

He tried it on that night, carefully, after a thorough shower. Standing in front of a mirror and combing his hair roughly the way Kurapika asked, he stared at the shocked man in his reflection.

He’d never looked so goddamn good in his _life._

Most of their meetings have been via phone calls, details sent over encrypted texts. Leorio can feel just how frustrated Kurapika has been. He says this is probably one of the most difficult pair he’s found. A man by the name of Gomez Bianchi bought his pair from an auction soon after Kurapika’s clan was slain. Unlike much of the other scarlet eyes owners, he didn’t display, show off, or try to sell his pair for profit. A recluse, he’s left much of his rare items to his spoiled son, whose addiction to gambling has made him a prime target for Kurapika’s plan. 

Leorio rubs his neck to expend some of his frantic energy. His driver (their driver) doesn’t make any move to lower the partition or point out the luxury drink and glassware in the mini fridge on Leorio’s left. As badly as Leorio would like a drink, he doesn’t want to add any unnecessary expenses to Kurapika’s charade. He picks at his suit lapels instead, pulling off the absent lint from the delivery box. It’s a sleek black that shimmers in certain places and pinches his waist quite tightly. He feels bigger in this commissioned suit Kurapika ordered for him. It’s in a cut he would have never tried from a brand he could never afford, even with his hunter’s license. But has to admit he looks damn good in it. 

Leorio deletes another notification. It’s going to be one of _those_ days.

When all the imaginary lint is gone, he picks at his chin, feeling the barest amount of stubble that has already grown from his morning shave. He did exactly as he was asked- clean up his face and shortened his sideburns to a more respectable margin, slicked his hair back with enough gel to survive a good fight, ditched the shades, and wore the colored contacts he received in package No. 2. 

Realizing his own fidgeting is going to ruin the meticulous work he put into this disguise, he folds his arms over his chest, leans his head back to the headrest, and follows the rhythm of the falling rain.

_Deep breaths, Leorio._

_Let’s review what we know._

  1. _My name is Jordane Harwick. I’m a nouveau riche bastard who earned his money by buying the licenses of and raising the prices on important medications in the pharmaceutical industry. I’ve been invited by my associates at Harper and Green Medicines to this gala and would like to participate in a game of Blood, Sweat, and Tears._
  2. _My goal is to bait the young Mr. Giorgio Bianchi, son of Gomez Bianchi, to gamble some of his father’s precious collection of human body parts._
  3. _Get the Scarlet Eyes at all costs._



He’s startled out of his own thoughts when a sharp single knock bounces from the window by his seat. A simple peak through the dark tinted glass shows the shadow of a thin figure under a wide umbrella. He opens the door and-Holy _shit_.

Kurapika’s disguise shouldn’t surprise Leorio but it manages to stop his breathing all the same. Tonight he’s wearing a thin white silk blouse with slits on the long sleeves that start on his shoulders and end on the cuffs, a keyhole opening on his chest, and a high collar with a single chain and ball pendant wrapped around his neck that dangles directly to the center of the opening. His waist is pinched with a wide belt of chains (conjured by his Nen) that hang over his hips and create the illusion of a womanly figure. He wears a long black flowing skirt that slits all the way up to his upper thigh, revealing smoothed legs and the barest hint of a red garter belt. His wig is the same long silver one he used in Yorknew, but now with bangs cut low on his face and the ends curled in wide ringlets.

Leorio knows he’s serious. This was his clan’s eyes. This wasn’t some disguise to blend into the crowded streets of a dense city to capture the Phantom Troupe, this was an undercover heist into the secret gambling table of a popular underground Gala Event. Kurapika couldn’t go as himself. He couldn’t use his own connections as a glorified security handler or grow Mafia figure to even get close. He couldn’t pretend to be some hot shot douchebag rolling in money. But Leorio could. When Kurapika showed him the blurry picture of a tall lanky Big Pharma CFO so far in gambling debt to the Nostrade family that Kurapika was able to pilfer his Gala Invitation, he knew instantly they could pass as twins.

Kurapika slips into the car without a word, shakes his umbrella, and closes the door. In the light of the car, he could see the silver tint in his eyebrows to match his wig and the blue contacts in his eyes. He looks Leorio up and down.

“You look good.”

_Bzzzz.Bzzzz._

“Uh. Um yeah.” Leorio clears his throat and tries to still his shaky voice. “It’s a new suit.”

Kurapika chuckles. He leans forward and knocks on the partition twice, and the car pulls into the street. In that moment, Leorio catches a glance of a broad bare back with nothing but a single silver chain crawling up the belt on his waist and disappearing into the silver curls of his hair. Leorio’s mind briefly blanks. “I know. I got it for you. Did you practice the card game?”

“What?” 

“Did you practice _the card game_?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I did the most I could. It’s not a game played outside of high stakes gambling tournaments. And even then it’s banned in most places.”

 _Bzzzz. Bzzzz._ Leorio taps his phone quiet so quickly he barely realized he had done it.

Leorio practiced with an edited traditional deck of cards that he marked with different colors. He can now attach infinitesimally small amounts of his aura to cards in specific spots to indicate which cards were which, and then use Gyo to see his opponent’s hand. Kurapika would screen the room for any Nen users and warn him if his ability would be spotted. But not even Kurapika, eyes red and glowing with gyo, could see his markings. 

“We’ll shift our tactics as needed.” 

Leorio’s phone buzzes for the nth time today. 

“You can count on me.”

“I do, Leorio.”

Kurapika would be there though with his dosing chain, hanging like an ornament from his neck.

Leorio thinks about the chains. He'll have them out the entire time, using their abilities for an extended period. How much nen will he be expending in all of this? How much can he use without going weak or losing consciousness? Whether it’s through worry or those beautiful tinted red lips, one of these days Kurapika’s gonna give him a heart attack.

His phone buzzes once more. 

Leorio chides quietly. He tries to pull the phone out without triggering Kurapika’s attention but fails. He’s too tense.

“You wanna answer that before we get there?”

“I don’t.” Leorio snaps back. He toggles through a few settings on his phone. Kurapika just manages to spy the phone screen asking if Leorio wants to block this number.

“Is that-“

“Yeah.”

Kurapika measures his words in his head. His fingers idly play with his skirt’s creeping hem, tugging it closed only for it to fall and show off a good chunk of his leg. Leorio tilts his head back on the headrest, eyes closed, finger tapping a slow rhythmic pattern on his knee. Kurapika takes this rare chance to just stare at Leorio. His eyes follow the smooth cheek down to a striking jaw, a long neck and a bulging Adam’s apple. His shoulders are _broad,_ heavens help him. 

When Leorio opens one eye he’s looking right at Kurapika without even turning his head. Kurapika is almost surprised at the cool green color that stares back at him instead of his familiar warm brown. 

He holds his neutral face the best he could.

“You wanna talk about it?”

“Hm.”

“I know I can’t offer much in advice, but I could lend an ear.” _Always so diplomatic, Kurapika._ Leorio accepts his offer. He closes his eyes and lets it out without looking.

“I haven’t forgiven her for what she said to Zepile. And I won’t accept her apology.”

“That’s understandable. What she said was very unfair—“ Leorio turns to Kurapika, his face twisted in an unfamiliar scowl.

“Or what she did to Melody.” Kurapika startles at the look on Leorio’s face. He’s seen him upset, angered, and disgusted. But this looks something closer to rage.

“and— Wait, what? What happened with Melody?” 

“She didn’t tell you?” Leorio quirks an eyebrow.

“No.” Kurapika turns to face Leorio, concern coloring his face. “She didn’t tell me anything.”

Leorio turns to face Kurapika, feeling the car jerk and go at uneven intervals. “You know how Melody came to visit me right? After my finals?”

“Yeah.” Kurapika tries not to remind him of the failed promise to visit with an apology. Leorio had forgiven him in a text message and a voicemail with a lighthearted mocking of his new “Boss” status in the underworld.

“I had lunch with her and Carly. It was just small talk stuff.” Kurapika nods in understanding. “Carly was leaving to visit her family for the holidays and I asked Melody to stick around and help me with my ‘Hunter’s Project’” Leorio raises his hands in air quotes. 

“You asked her for help in Nen training.”

“Right. Melody’s an emitter—you know—and I wanted some advice on Nen from someone who had the same type as me.”

“Makes sense.”

“Carly... didn’t see it that way.” Kurapika’s tinted eyebrow rises, beckoning Leorio to continue. “I took her to the airport and—I should’ve known she was uncomfortable. She kept asking me weird questions, if I loved her, if we could have a quickie before leaving, and wanting to blow me in the men’s—“

“What about _Melody_ , Leorio.” Kurapika interrupts. 

“Oh. Yeah, she came back sooner than I expected and caught me and Melody working on my Nen. I panicked and kicked her out.”

“Why? She wouldn’t have seen anything if she didn't know how to use Nen and or use _Gyo_.”

“Well,” Leorio scratches his cheek. “From the point of a view of anyone else, it would look like my arm was dismembered and floating in the middle of my living room.”

“Ah. I see.” Kurapika envisions the strange scene wistfully. It would’ve been nice to spend that time with Leorio and Melody. “And she blames this on Melody?”

“She thinks I was caught cheating on her with Melody and that’s why I kicked her out so fast. She insulted Melody and called her some really nasty things. She even started throwing stuff. It was a pretty big mess.” 

“Wait. You let her back in? Or she managed to throw things through the door?”

“No, she- Ah Fuck!” Leorio slaps his forehead. “She still has the key to my _apartment_.” He groans. Leorio pinches the bridge of his nose and sighs. Under his breath, he grumbles “No wonder she made it in last night.”

“That sounds awful.”

“She went worse on Zepile. Melody can avoid anything thrown at her but Zepile can’t dodge for _shit_.”

“I hope it didn’t leave the two of you in bad terms.”

“Who do you mean? Zepile? Nah! He thinks it’s hilarious.” Leorio fiddles with his blazer button. “He took it as a compliment being called a Tramp.” Kurapika snorts inelegantly. Leorio’s face slips into fondness. “Plus, he took that anatomy textbook to the face like a champ.” Kurapika fails to hold back his laughter this time. It brings a smile to Leorio’s face. “She _was_ pretty sour about whatever she thought was going on between me and Zep.”

Kurapika reels his mind away from that train of thought. The mere _idea_ that Leorio would consider anyone other than a busty woman to give his attention to would drive his thoughts into a spiral. But the words tumble out of his mouth before he could stop it.

“What’s wrong with Zepile?”

Leorio shrugs, turning away to the opposite window. “Not exactly my type.”

“Too manly?” Kurapika chuckles nervously, fishing for the confirmation he hopes and fears in equal amounts.

“Nope. Too tall!” Leorio winks at Kurapika. Kurapika bursts out laughing, holding his belly and trying to cover his mouth without smudging his lipstick. “I don’t think I could stand anyone standing over my head. Any taller than me, and we’re gonna have issues!”

“It would be challenging to find someone taller than you, Leorio.”

* * *

The car pulls up to a curved driveway marked by hulking men in bellhop suits. Their muscles and thick necks reveal their true professions. 

When the car stops, they take a few steps to open the door and lean huge black umbrellas over the doorway. Rain streams over their heads but none complain or remark on the slow way Kurapika carefully steps out of the car.

Leorio follows after him and Kurapika doesn’t hesitate to slip his arm- strong and balanced- around Leorio’s. Like a couple would- like any real couple on a date. 

Or a rich man and his pricey escort.

Leorio follows without a word and they let themselves be guided the short few feet to the main doors. They pause shortly at the host podium and Leorio hands over his large invitation. 

“Mr. Harwick and companion! We welcome you to our humble art gallery.” The host rubs his hands as he looks them over. “Please,” he extends his arm out towards the crowd behind him. “enjoy the drinks and hors d'oeuvres as you peruse tonight’s selection. All pieces are for sale in a first-come first-serve manner.” He unhooks the red rope tethered between two tall stone pillars. Standing in front each pillar is another pair of hulking bellboys- men. “Or you can out-buy the buyer for a small recommended _donation_ to our gallery..” The host bows as he hands over a small card to Leorio. Kurapika pretends not to care as Leorio reads it over and chokes at the many digits on the card.

“ _Sounds lovely._ ” Leorio growls as he pockets the card. They walk past him as he repeats his greeting spiel to the next guests walking behind them.

The entire room is flooded with people dressed to the nines and mingling with loud pleasantries and coy looks. Men in pressed suits, smart accessories—women in slim modern dresses, high thin heels—clinking glasses of auburn whisky and dark fine wines. Leorio is stunned. It’s the picture of what he’s always imagined rich living was like. Everyone looks like they were pulled from a fashion magazine and into living form. Even the waiters and waitresses with the pinned bowties and stark white shirts look expensive.

He tries very hard not to pluck a handful of hors d'oeuvres and shovel them into his mouth like the mongrel he is. 

Kurapika leans easily into Leorio’s side. Leorio slips his hand low on his back, his palm against the chain belt as they move from art piece to art piece. Leorio guides him to the first art installment—an abstract figurine entitled “Natural”. It’s a mixed material composition of processed foods, eco-friendly plastic wrappers, mysterious clear gelatinous bags, nude make-up adverts, and black dirt. Leorio probably catches him staring at the mystery blobs when he whispers quietly. “Those are breast implants.”

“Oh.”

They follow onto the next installment: a ceiling ornament of red ribbons, pink jewels, white balloons and (strangely enough) deformed baby dolls. It’s called Womb of Death. It doesn’t inspire conversation or comment. They walk to the next one, a series of paintings that when viewed from a certain angle produce a new image. They make boring conversation naturally. Leorio points out parts of odd art pieces and Kurapika takes the opportunity to look like the expensive escort bored out of her mind. 

As the crowd thins out in the next room, Leorio feels Kurapika’s attention point to a plain door blocked by two security guards and a simple velvet rope.

“This way.”

Kurapika lets Leorio take the first step and follows behind him. It’s strange to lead this way, behind another person. Leorio doesn’t unhook his arm from Kurapika’s as he slips the red invitation from the inside of his suit blazer. It’s quickly inserted into a nondescript handreader, and disappears inside. The screen displays something only the guard can see, and with a nod of his head, the other guard unhooks the velvet rope and opens the door for them.

“Welcome, Dr. Harwick and companion.”


	2. Round 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Leorio and Kurapika play their first round of Blood, Sweat, and Tears

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please review tags as they have been updated to reflect the story's contents. Enjoy! =D

“Welcome, Dr. Harwick and companion.”

A thrill runs down Leorio’s spine at the title, but it’s knocked out by the pitch black the door reveals to them. He stares at the endless darkness feeling the weight pool into the soles of his feet. A firm squeeze on his arm gets his attention. _Get a grip, Leorio._

He coughs quietly in his throat, nods at the two men and walks into the dark corridor with Kurapika in his arm.

The walk is long and dark, with only a faint light slowly growing with each step they take. Kurapika pulls on Leorio’s arm when his pace quickens. Their footsteps echo loudly and whoever is on the other side will know they’re more afraid if they rush through the darkness.

The end of the tunnel is marked by a simple single-panel door with light crawling from beneath. Leorio’s hand shakes as he grips the handle and swings it open.

The room is bright with glittering crystals dangling on a dark backdrop. There are tightly dressed servers and even more tightly dressed women drinking and mingling with multiple men in the room sitting on lavish couches. Each one sizes Leorio up, either blowing smoke out of their mouths or sneering at him from their comfortable seats.

A single oblong table sits at the center of the room, with 5 chairs, totally unoccupied but for a single deck of black-backed cards.

“Took you long enough!” A man dressed in a green velvet suit twists the butt of his cigar into a decorative gold ashtray at his side and stands up. He adjusts his drooping pants and belt from under his hanging belly. “Let’s get this game started already!” He roars.

Servers start pulling away from their original stations and assemble into a line that files out behind a cleverly hidden door. A single man, dressed more finely than the other servers, enters the room through them. The servers scurry around him in a flurry of movements as he makes his way to the middle of the room, his coiffed white hair neatly curled behind his ears. 

“Welcome, esteemed guests.” He gives a singular deep bow to the small crowd. “My name is Croupier Tableau, and I will be your dealer and game master for this evening.” 

Straightening up again, he points one forearm to the man on his right. “Tonight’s game is hosted by our esteemed benefactor Mr. Giorgio Bianchi.” Everyone turns to the man beside him.

Giorgio Bianchi. 

Giorgio Bianchi comes accompanied by not one, but 2 scantily clad women. They cling to his arms and sigh into his polished white suit. Bianchi is young, much younger than most of the other men in the room- definitely closer to Leorio’s real age. But definitely younger than _Jordane Harwick_ at least _._ He doesn’t look particularly smart either. Leorio watches his ‘companions’. They look near dead on their feet with pale flat faces, red eyes, and messy hair. If their dilated eyes didn’t reveal it, the small tinge of blood on one of their noses told the whole story. _Those girls are definitely coked out of their minds_. Giorgio sniffs loudly, his own eyes dilated and watery.

_Little Bianchi included._

“Allow me to introduce the invitees of tonight’s game.” Tableau announces.

“Mr. Odo Roth, of the Roth & Roth Associates.”

The man in the green velvet suit tilts his matching suede cowboy hat and toasts his short amber glass to Bianchi across the room. A lady behind him tilts her head and winks at them.

“Mr. Saulo Espin, of Espin Escort Services.”

Another man dressed in a navy blazer nods his head and waves his hand to the rest of them. His own guest, a woman in a low cut pink dress, blows everyone a kiss.

“Mr. Güher Solak, of Solak Energy and Mining.”

Mr. Solak tips his plain fedora in short greeting, but his hands glisten with a myriad of jewels and precious stones. He also brought a lady companion- a woman his own age draped in a simple sleek dress, wearing a single pendant of a black and gold bar studded with a small pink stone. Finally, Tableau’s hand points to Leorio and Kurapika. 

“Dr. Jordane Harwick, of Harper and Green Pharmaceuticals.”

Leorio tilts his head in silent greeting to Bianchi first, curling his hand on Kurapika’s hip, and then nods to the rest of the group. They all nod back in similar fashion.

“Well then,” Tableau unbuttons his server’s blazer in quick flicks of his fingers. “If we are satisfied with our introductions, let us settle in.” He slips his jacket off and a server appears from the shadows behind him to carry it out of his grasp. Tableau is left in a stark white button down and shiny red vest. Another server slips to his side with a pair of red gloves on a silver platter. He slips them on in two quick pulls. “Invitees, if you would please take your seats.”

There are grunts of satisfaction and shuffling noises as everyone steps forward. There’s no hesitation as the men take the chairs closest to them and their companions slip smoothly on their laps.

Kurapika follows not a half-step behind him. Leorio’s hand runs smoothly from his waist to his hip, pulling him up further against him as he sits with his legs wide under the table. Kurapika holds back a shiver as he adjusts himself on his lap, smoothing his skirt over his leg and steadying his breath. 

“All of your chips have been verified and properly weighted against their funds.” Tableau announces. Each player watches a screen light up by their hands in a myriad of colors. Leorio nearly chokes at the significant red digits shining back at him. _How did Kurapika get this sort of money?_ “All winnings will be reflected at the end of this game. Any forfeiture of the match will result in the loss of all deposited funds for this game.” Before them a hologram appears at the center of the table, illuminating their faces with the image of a pile of gold coins bouncing and twinkling on the table. 

Mr. Roth leans forward and cuts the tip off a fresh cigar, its underside glowing in a garish green from the screen by his fingers. “We’ve got some fresh faces here. They could use a refresher of the House Rules.” He pointedly stares at Leorio and Kurapika, wiggling his unlit cigar towards him.

In that moment, a woman wiggles under Mr. Roth’s arm and pulls his attention away. “ _You’l_ l get me something to play with, right?” She simpers, sitting primly on the only space on his knee unencumbered by his hanging gut. She slips a lighter from between her breasts and flicks it open.

“Daddy’s gonna get you something nice, Kitten. Don’t you worry.” He growls. Roth leans forward to his lady’s lit fire and puffs a few clouds out of his mouth from his lit cigar.

“A grand suggestion, sir.” Tableau picks up the deck of black cards from the center of the table. “Tonight’s game will consist of three rounds of _Blood, Sweat, and Tears_ as noted in your invitation. I hope you all are familiar with the rules as this will be a weighted game and _not_ suitable for beginners.” He skims his eyes over Leorio. Leorio doesn’t give it any attention. “We will be playing with a house standard 54-card deck for this game. Standard house point system is in place. Each hand will consist of no more than 5 cards. Our Market Time is also the house standard of 10 minutes per hand. With 5 hands at tonight’s table, the Market will be open for no more than 50 minutes each round and will change with the number of hands on the table.” 

“And what about _your hand_ , Mr. Tableau?” The table turns to Mr. Espin who adjusts his navy suit. “House rules mean house win’s yeah? My invitation came from a man, not the House.”

“Hey, Espin! If you don’t feel my games are suitable to your tastes, feel free to leave.” Bianchi waves his hand in farewell, his face turning a ghostly white from his own illuminated screen. “Your chips will make a great initial contribution to the pot!”

“Now now, don’t be silly _Junior_ .” Mr. Espin spits. Giorgio bristles at the nickname. “I haven’t submitted _anything–_ and _anyone_ with _reasonable_ gambling experience knows that every game master needs to be properly licensed by a Gambling House.” He cooly tilts his head. “Or did you lose more than your money at Nostrade’s?”

Giorgio rises and slams his hands on the table in anger but Mr. Tableau serenely lifts his hand between them. With his eyes closed into slits, Mr. Tableau reaches carefully into his vest pocket to reveal a black case. 

“Mr. Espin, you have brought up a valid point. I apologize for not including my licensure in my introduction.” Carefully, Mr. Tableau clicks the black case open and lays 3 cards on the table. One is a plain black and white card with a gold film seal to certify his training as a Gambling Game Master. The next is a blue card with 2 bloody thumbprints over the Heil-Ly Family crest. The last card is more familiar to Leorio and Kurapika– the double X symbol of the Hunter’s Association. Kurapika tenses. He did not expect to have a _hunter_ oversee them. “Forgive me for this slight.” Tableau finishes with a deep bow.

Espin leans back on his chair with a grunt, seemingly satisfied with Tableau’s response. He waves his hand and the light panel in front of him glows a calm blue.

“And now for _my_ rules.” Tableau stands upright again, pulling his vest by the hem to straighten it out. “Everyone is to put their _best_ effort in winning tonight’s game.” He turns to his audience with a serpentine smile, his fist clenched jovially in triumph. “Everyone is a player. And any player can win! But most importantly–” Kurapika and Leorio watch as a dark slithering form crawls from within Tableau, completely unseen by the rest of the players at the table. It settles a cold and bitter taste in their mouths and a putrid swell in their stomachs. A quick glance to the rest of the table reveals pale faces and cold sweats in every chair and lap. His voice spills out smooth in a dark warning–

_“_ **_There is no cheating in my games_ ** _."_

The dark Nen dissipates as quickly as it flowed, chased away by a sugary sweet aura warming the room. Tableau’s eyes sparkle with glee as everyone’s faces slowly regain their color.

“Know that whatever you walk out with tonight– that you have rightfully earned using the best of your abilities against your fellow players, yes?” The table nods back at him silently.

“Now–” Tableau rips open the black box and fans out the black cards across the table in a sweeping arc. “Are we ready to play?”

Kurapika hears the clicking of Leorio’s throat by his ear. The rest of the men lean forward on the table, priming themselves for a game that could either make them or break them. Kurapika lays a hand on Leorio’s thigh, tapping twice with his finger.

_Change of plans._

Tableau starts by scooping the cards and spreading them on the table in a wash shuffle. He proceeds to pile them together, cutting the deck in half and following with a riffle shuffle against the table. He cuts the deck into piles 4 more times and finally deals the cards one at a time to each player until a total of 5 are flown neatly to each person. Leorio waits to collect his cards until all of them are dispersed to him, watching carefully as a few men pick up their cards one by one as they are dealt, frowning or smirking with each pass. 

He takes a breath and picks up his cards.

____________________________________________________________________________

_The first thing you’re going to do Leorio–the very first thing– is buy out as many center value cards as possible._ _Sweat cards and Tear cards are center value cards. If you have to choose, Sweat cards have a higher chance of being hoarded when folding. Either take them or discard them to the pot. Get them out of the circulating hands. We only have 2 rounds to get them desperate._

_We need to make Bianchi desperate._

____________________________________________________________________________

The first thing Leorio notices is how fancy the cards are. Silky smooth to the touch on the back, they have no blue patterns or fractal designs like his own old blue Bicycle cards– just a solid black face. 

The second thing Leorio notices is his hand– 2 Sweat cards and 3 Tear cards. 

_That’s a “Workout” and a “Sob Story”. That’s 3 points each for a total of 6 points._

The card’s faces reveal beautifully embossed drops filled with a reflective foil colored to represent their suits- blue drops for tears and white drops for sweat. Red drops are obviously for blood, but Leorio hasn’t seen one yet.

_We need to make Bianchi desperate._ He think's back to Kurapika's static-surrounded voice calling him at 4 in the morning. Leorio remembers slipping out of Carly’s loose hold when the buzzing of his phone on his desk pulled him out of sleep. _Whenever he gets desperate he starts dipping into his Father’s collection._

Silence rings around the table as everyone keeps a tight lip. Leorio hates it.

“So…” Leorio rests his cards face down in front of him. “Let’s open the Market.”

“The Market is now open.” Tableau shuffles the remaining cards in his hand a second time and reveals the top 5 cards in a neat line. 

“Morning Market price starts at 50 Million Jenny or Best Offer. You may place your bids now.”

Leorio reviews the cards on the table. 1 Tear Card, 3 Blood cards, and a Sweat Card. The Tear card, if it appears in the second half of the Market, will put him in a good place. He’s confident money won’t be a problem in this game. Kurapika might keep the exact source of their playing funds quiet, but Leorio’s not stupid to think it’s anything less illegal than what he’s already knee-deep in. 

He just hopes he doesn’t drown in it. Or he’ll have to pull a few drastic moves to pull Kurapika out of it kicking and screaming.

Just as he reaches to make a few tapping motions on the screen, nails rake up the back of his head. Leorio lets out a shuddery breath as Kurapika shuffles on his lap. Kurapika crosses his legs one over the other, his head tilted on his shoulder. He taps twice on his neck with his trimmed painted nails.

Leorio raises his bid by two clicks for the Tear card. The Blood cards are definitely the most risky but most valuable. Having 3 or more in your hand can give you a sizable point advantage. But anything less and you’re literally losing points. Like a small cut that bleeds you out. Without any prompting, Leorio bids high for the second blood card, 200 million J. It wouldn’t do well for him to keep it, but he can discard it and throw it out of the market. 

Kurapika’s finger strokes the lobe of his ear by his hand. _Good move_. 

Tableau observes the table and notes his player’s behaviors: Bianchi is tapping the table with his cards faced away from everyone. Solak leans back relaxed, closing his eyes in the process. Espin and Roth both glare at the blood cards in front of them. When he looks over to the young Harwick, he finds him staring blindly at the holographic pile– a restless focus hidden under his boring facade. His companion, however, stares intently at each player and the women on their laps. Harwick’s companion looks deadly- definitely security detail orientated. He catches the small touches passed between them; a stroke of the ear, a hand smoothing over an exposed thigh through the skirt slit. Tableau gets an uneasy feeling while looking at them. His first reaction would be to test them with his En. They were certainly more receptive to his aura while explaining his rules, but more resilient than the rest. They certainly are more interesting than the rest of the lot. Their auras didn’t seem anything out of the ordinary– flowing around them easily and siphoning off from the top of their heads in a steady curling wisp. 

But this isn’t his game. He’s just the game master.

“All bids in. Last chance for Morning Market.”

Roth snorts from his chair. The cards illuminate around their borders, holographic numbers materializing above them for all to see. 

Leorio sees his conservative 50 Million Jenny bid glow bright and red and alone above the single Tear card on sale. His other 200 Mil bid sits neatly above the second blood card, under a blue 220 Mil bid, which is under another green 240 mil bid, and sitting on top is an oversized 250 Million Jenny bid in bright stark white. The other blood card shows similar numbers, with Bianchi’s 250 million bid glowing white above all the others. Finally, the last blood card has another white 250 million bid, sitting under a neat blue 260 million bid glowing faintly over it. Bianchi scoffs at the numbers, throwing a sneer at the satisfied looking Espin across the table. In the end, the sweat card, with a pitiful 20 Mil bid, glows a sickly yellow.

“You can’t win them all, Young Giorgio.” Solak waves his jeweled hand in a calming manner. The gems shift in color as they hit the yellow light illuminating from his screen. “It was a good try though. Very bold.” Giorgio scoffs at his words but is consoled anyway. One of his companions kisses his cheek in drowsy affection, waving a compact in her hand. 

“Not now.” Bianchi waves her off. She pouts but doesn’t try again.

“Thank you for your purchases, gentlemen.” Tableau passes 2 Blood cards to Bianchi and 1 to Espin who winks at Bianchi for good measure. Leorio takes his Tear card without fanfare as does Solak with his Sweat card. “The Morning Market is now closed. If you wish to conduct any additional transactions, do so now. If you are ready for the Midnight Market, please discard as many cards necessary until your hand is reduced to 5.”

Espin taps his fingers on the table. “I’ll buy from the deck.” 

“Starting price is 75 Million per card. The price will increase as you purchase more cards. The starting price will reset the next–”

“Give me the damn card, will you? I thought this wasn’t a beginner’s game.” Espin growls out. 

“My apologies.” He deals Espin a card from the top of the deck face down. When it touches his hand, the blue lights flicker signifying the reduction of numbers from his funds’ screen. 

Espin picks up his card, gives it a brief look, and tucks it neatly with the rest of his cards.

Virtual coins fall from an invisible chute and into the illusion pile at the center. The numbers at the top roll upwards and stop at a whopping 905 Million Jenny, twinkling with electric stars. They’ll surely break the first billion mark before the end of the first round.

Leorio feels sick.

He tosses one of his Sweat cards face down at the table, silently announcing his choice. Kurapika, already feeling his ire, breathes a sigh out as he readjusts himself and holds onto his bored look. Watching the others make kissy faces and bedroom eyes at their companions, Kurapika doesn’t feel worried that their choreographed gestures would be noticed. He uncurls his arm from the back of Leorio’s neck and twists his hip to better face the rest of the table. He gazes at the holographic pile in the center and reaches his hand up and behind himself to Leorio’s smooth face. Leorio’s breath tickles his wrist in shaky puffs, warm and damp as he turns his face into Kurapika’s palm. 

The others follow suit, tossing a card or two until everyone is left with 5 cards on hand.

Tableau carefully collects the cards and shuffles them. One by one he reveals the cards face up and collects them as soon as they are placed. Kurapika notes all the cards to be Tear and Sweat cards. He looks over at Bianchi, his attention suddenly busy with the breasts of one of his companions as the other waves her sparkling glass around. Every other couple seems relatively tame compared. 

_He’s certainly not the only one trying to milk Bianchi for all he’s worth. Seems that playing Bianchi is the unifying goal._

“The Midnight Market is now open.” Tableau deals out 3 cards face up from the rapidly depleting deck. “Price starts at 75 Million Jenny or Best Offer. You may place your bids now.”

_1 Sweat, 1 Blood, 1 Tear. An equal market._

Leorio taps on his screen. He doesn’t lowball his number this time and goes for high to outbuy anyone who might take his lead. Kurapika’s rapid tapping of his thigh however catches him off-guard. There’s no way he needs to bid that high. Leorio’s fingers finish tapping his screen just as Tableau calls out ‘All bids in.’ 

The Sweat card was bought at a high price- 250 million Jenny- with only Solak making an attempt. But Solak’s yellow numbers don’t compare to the ridiculousness of Bianchi’s outrageous purchase. Glowing above the Blood card is Bianchi’s white number- a disgusting 399 million Jenny towering over several other orange and blue numbers. Leorio just barely registers them as he sees his own bet floating side-by-side a garish green number.

Roth’s belly jiggles as he cackles pointedly at Leorio. 

“Seems we’ve got similar ideas, Slim!”

“It’s Dr. Harwick.”

“I’mma call you Slim!” 

“Gentlemen–” Tableau interrupts them, picking up the Blood card and Sweat card from the table. “You seem to have matched bids.” A smile slithers on his face as he tosses them to their new owners.”Please offer a new bid for the card.”

The numbers on the table fade away. Roth taps his screen with his fat fingers, flicking away the ash from his cigar. Kurapika’s fingers tap just as quickly on his pant leg and Leorio matches it with his own tapping on the screen. They might not need to win this round, but it would make things easier later. Leorio’s only been pressing the arrow keys at this point increasing his bid until Kurapika is satisfied. He doesn’t think his heart could take it if he saw just how much he’s bidding to win this flimsy piece of cardstock.

“All bids in.” 

Leorio’s red numbers fizzle above the Tear card.

Roth’s green numbers fizzle just beside it again. 

“Oh my! Another draw! This is interesting.” Tableau comments. Solak huffs while Bianchi starts fiddling with the compact one of his escorts hides between her breasts as a game. Numbers disappear and before Tableau can direct them, Leorio and Roth are tapping quickly on their screens. He doesn’t need the nails in his hair to know Kurapika needs him to up the ante and finish this soon.

“All bids in, gentlemen!”

Leorio’s leg bounces under the table. Kurapika leans his weight over it, keeping him still. 

_Stay calm._

They watch the numbers fizzle over the last Tear card, first 525 million Jenny in blue, which earns both Roth and Leorio a shrug from Espin. “I was getting bored just watching.”

The next numbers fizzle in pairs, numbers blurred, and spinning like a slot machine. The numbers finally stop at 541 Million and 542 Million. 

In Roth’s favor.

“ _Yeeees!!_ ” Roth roars as he slaps his hands on the table. The card jumps at the center of the table like Leorio’s heart jumped out of his chest at his loss. Kurapika’s hand reaches over and soothes him, pats his cheek softly.

“Yeah, you go soothe your man, girly.” Kurapika’s head snaps to Roth. He and his escort laugh and cackle as Tableau passes the card to Roth. They’ve garnered Roth’s attention now and he doesn’t seem like the type to stop picking at someone until he sees them crumble. He’s going to be a problem.

“It was a good challenge, Slim. I really enjoyed that.”

“That’s good to hear.” Leorio grates out through his teeth.

“Well played, Mr. Roth.” Tableau twists his wrist to look over a watch. “This concludes the end of Midnight Market. We have about 20 more minutes until you may Fold or Reveal. Please make your decisions and when ready leave all cards face down.”

Leorio reviews his hand: 4 Tear cards and a 1 Sweat Card.

_Damn. A Mourning Period and a Cold Sweat. 5 and 1 points. I literally wasted 50 million Jenny just to have the same number of points as I started!_

Bianchi’s girls are starting a small commotion on his side of the table. There’s a small compact open with a series of powders being pushed into lines. Leorio already knows what it is. He’s seen it being sold and used and driving people past breaking points and into spiraling depths of depravity. 

Bianchi’s head bends over and the sound of his snort fills the room loudly.

“Celebrating a bit early, eh Bianchi?” Espin calls out. 

Bianchi doesn’t lift his head for another few moments. When he does, his thumb wipes away the shimmering powder from his nose and he licks it clean. “What? No way! This is the best time to get your blood pumping. Get the edge off.” His girls follow suit, turning their faces to the table, and cleaning off another line. 

Leorio’s ire grows.

“I’d like to think of it aaaasssss…. The pre-party to my win!” Bianchi jerks his chin to Roth. His escort mouth’s _Me?_ And presses her hand to her chest. He passes her his compact and silver cylinder. 

“You _are_ so generous, Mr. Bianchi. _Really_.” She flutters her eyelashes at him. Roth puffs from his cigar behind her. He holds her steady as she partakes. She cleans her own nose delicately, her eyes watery when she sits up. She waves the compact around, pointing it at everyone for a brief moment. Solak and Espin decline her offer, but Solak does slip a small chip from a compartment in his ring into his and his partner’s mouth. Espin and his companion nurse their drinks, a different color from everyone else’s.

When the compact points at Leorio he doesn’t stop the words tumbling out of his mouth.

“No thanks. I don’t go for the cheap stuff.” 

Roth coughs out a smokey laugh from his cigar. Bianchi’s clownish delight falls right on the ground. At that moment, Kurapika shifts on his lap again. This time he pulls out something from the inside of Leorio’s blazer jacket. When he even slipped that, he didn't know, but the case fits neatly in Kurapika’s palm. The black lacquer gloss shines in the light. Kurapika reaches inside his blouse for a plain gas station zippo lighter scratched around the edges from use. 

“I’ll have you know, this is the highest quality DD you’ll ever lay your eyes on!” Bianchi’s raving nearly knocks the girls off his lap. “It’s from the only non-crossbred original Bira tree from the NGL–” Kurapika unclips the black case to reveal plain cigarettes, unmarked by brand or symbols. “–uncompromised by chemical pesticides or fertilizers–” He pinches them between the inside of his fingers as if he were to use them himself, flips the mouth end to Leorio, and flicks the lighter open. “–and grown in only the _best_ conditions for the highest purity content–”

Leorio doesn’t smoke. _Any more_. 

But he hasn’t felt this stretched thin before. The Hunter Exam pushed him through his limits, but he wasn’t stupid enough to smoke a pack after running some endless tunnel for miles no matter how stressed he was. If Kurapika is putting this to his mouth, it can’t be for a bad reason. _Better a plain gas station cigarette than the shit Bianchi and his girls are snorting or whatever the hell the rest of these bougie fucks are using._ And he trusts Kurapika with his life. 

He has an image to portray. And this image will smoke inside a room and not care about the complete absurdity of this card game. This image doesn’t blink at 9 digit numbers or care about the women being abused or manipulated with drugs. This image is a soulless con who only takes and breaks for profit. 

When the smell of burning paper fills his nose, he tilts his head and bends slightly, sucks his lips around the end, and kisses Kurapika’s fingers in the process. Kurapika pulls the cigarette back, fingers still but his shoulders shaking, and watches Leorio let out a steady line of smoke towards the table, swimming past his flushed face.

“Like I said, I don’t go for the cheap stuff.” He leans forward just enough to pull another drag from between Kurapika’s fingers, tilting his head and holding his mouth to it like a lover’s kiss. His teeth tugs the cigarette from his fingers. A few of the other women look on with captivation. The smoke flows out his nose, a bull priming on the charge. “Your organic DD drug doesn’t interest me.” 

Bianchi leans back in his chair. His tirade is done while his annoyance crawls around his shoulders like an obvious spider. His eyes are already blown from his previous snorting session.

“Ok. Alright. Just offering. No need to get _snippy_.” Bianchi looks at his cards again. “Fold and Reveal, yeah? Yeah?” He looks over at Tableau who stays tight-lipped and passive during the whole tirade. He stares at his watch, ignoring Bianchi for the moment, silent for a long pause and finally speaks.

“Time for Fold and Reveal. If you have the intention to Fold, do so now.”

The table is silent. Roth acts first, throwing 3 of his cards towards Tableau and keeping 2 in his hand. “I fold.”

“Anyone else? Then please reveal your hands to the table.”

Leorio flips his cards in one move and spreads them apart. 6 points isn’t a guaranteed win but he _could_ make it–

“And the first round goes to Mr. Solak, with a _Fatal Fever_ for 7 points!” Solak grins proudly over his 5 Sweat cards all neatly aligned. Tableau performs a jubilant single person applause for his win. The lights above the virtual pot shift, transforming the pile into a mountain of golden coins, green jenny bills, and J-stamped bars. The numbers roll in a blur and each stop in sequential order– _2 - 0 - 9 - 6 - 0 - 0 - 0 - 0 - 0 - 0 –_ all in a glaring yellow hue with Solak’s name blinking above.

That’s just over 2 billion Jenny. 

The swelling in the pit of Leorio’s stomach sinks further. He sucks another breath through his cigarette. 

“That completes round one, gentlemen. Please pass all revealed cards to the center to be discarded.” Leorio tosses them inelegantly which Tableau catches with 5 fingers pinning them to the table. He serenely collects the pile and shuffles them into the previous discard deck. “A short break is in order.” Servers fly in passing around small trays with drinks and food in bite-sized amounts. While some pick through the options, Roth yanks the entire tray out of the server’s hand and passes it to his partner. She hand feeds them to him in messy bites that he barely chews and swallows whole. Leorio waves away the offers, instead making himself comfortable in his chair.

“What? Is the food too cheap for you too, Slim?” Leorio watches him finish off the tray and motion for another one. This one smells divine and the obvious smell of bacon fat wafts through the air.

“I’d rather not clog my arteries.” Leorio deadpans. Roth nearly chokes on his food. Solak and Espin chuckle behind their hands while their companions pinch their lips to contain their laughter. Roth glares at them but they don’t exactly hide their amusement well.

“You know–” Roth wipes his mouth with his hand. “With how skinny and stretched out you are, you probably have a pencil dick.”

Leorio doesn’t take the bait, and instead calmly breathes in deep, pulling in smoke and burning through his pilfered cigarette. Kurapika rides the slow wave of his chest as it grows and expands against him. He adjusts Kurapika on his lap as he leans his head back and puffs out delicate rings of smoke, each one slipping through the first until a thin steady stream shoots like an arrow through the smokey target. The women give a soft “ooooohhh” at his performance. Roth’s companion even claps. He looks back at Roth and drags his tongue over the corner of his lips.

“Never heard that complaint, but I’ve been told I’m good with my mouth.”

Kurapika turns and gives a soft snort against his neck. 

“Think you can confirm that?” barks Roth at Kurapika, titling his cowboy hat back.

Kurapika gives him a coy look under his bangs, brings a finger to his lips, and pointedly looks at the woman on his lap.

“I’d rather not say.” Kurapika tilts his head so his bangs move over his eyelashes. “It’s not wise to invite... excitable competition.” Roth turns to his lady and catches her winking at Leorio. He growls and she whimpers and pouts, her fun cut short. She leans forward to him and whispers something that stretches a dirty look on his face. As she sits back up again Roth takes the opportunity to smack her rear. She simpers in delight, cackling unnaturally.

“Can we get on with the game? You two can fuck later.” Bianchi calls out bored. Tableau nods beside him.

“It seems the break is over. Onto the next round.” Tableau announces. The servers clear the table again of crumbs and trays hoarded by Roth. He only manages to shove an extra bite into his mouth before it’s whisked away.

Tableau starts the match again dealing the remaining cards to the players until he runs out. Leorio eyes the 4 cards in front of him and doesn’t touch them. They watch Tableau shuffle the discard pile in the same manner he shuffled the starting deck and passes the remaining 3 cards to the last 3 players. Once all of them reach him, he picks up his cards.

It takes all of Leorio’s willpower to steal his face. Kurapika does a much better job but the way his thighs tense reveals just how surprised he is at their luck– a _Bloodbath_ – 5 blood cards for 10 points, the highest total number of points you could earn in any game.

A guaranteed win.

Which could not have come at a worse time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THANK YOU FOR ALL YOUR KIND WORDS! Believe it or not, this chapter has been the most recently written piece for this fic. The next chapter will follow up, but there's a big chunk of this fic that should just fly through with updates because it's already been written. Let me know of any typos so I can fix them!
> 
> Thanks to fumikawge and morfiumd on Tumblr for their AMAZING art for my fic!
> 
> https://fumikawge.tumblr.com/post/624115909553012736
> 
> https://morfiumd.tumblr.com/post/622456484388814848/13-my-piece-for-hxhbigbang2020-first-out


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